


A Road Made of Stars

by Dolorosa



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 05:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolorosa/pseuds/Dolorosa
Summary: Having survived Ketterdam, Kaz Brekker's various schemes, and the assassination attempts of powerful people from at least four different nations, Nina Zenik and Matthias Helvar have embarked on their most dangerous mission yet: to bring about peace between Ravka and Fjerda. While they knew this wouldn't be easy, they were at least expecting their journey to be uneventful.They were wrong.Post-Crooked Kingdom.





	A Road Made of Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evewithanapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/gifts).



Nina woke abruptly, sprawled in a tangled heap on the floor. Matthias was beside her, his dazed expression a clear indication that his awakening had been as sudden as her own. As the pair of them struggled to sit up, blearily becoming aware of their surroundings, the floor of their cabin pitched wildly. That was the first sign that something was deeply wrong. As water began to pour in through the porthole, they realised that there was no time to waste. Without pausing to gather their belongings they stumbled from the cabin, struggling to make their way through the bowels of the ship as the waters rose.

It was a terrifying, chilling journey to the ship's deck. The passageways were unlit, making familiar paths dark and disorienting, and the force of the icy water frequently knocked them over or threw them violently against the walls. Every time Nina fell, Matthias bent to help her back to her feet, and together they fought their way forward against the deluge. By the time they emerged on deck they were exhausted, but they forced themselves to take in their surroundings, and realised that things were even more dire than they had anticipated.

The ship was pitching wildly, and they could hear its wooden planks creaking and cracking ominously. Everything was lashed with water, and fierce winds whipped around them, howling through the light clothes they'd worn to bed and chilling their damp hair. The night sky was ablaze with stars, and Nina remembered with a twinge of grief how happy that had made her on the first night of their voyage — that she could see the stars once more, unimpeded by the clouds of smoke from the factories and street lamps of Ketterdam. Now the light of the stars seemed cold and indifferent, and only served to emphasise their own helplessness.

They were utterly alone.

'Nina,' said Matthias, his voice quiet with controlled fury, 'they've taken all the lifeboats.'

Nina felt a wave of horror wash over her. Horror, at first, and then guilt. If only she hadn't been so impatient, so desperate to reach Ravka. If only she hadn't been determined to leave as soon as possible, she could have waited until Inej had returned from her most recent quest for justice, and travelled to Ravka on Inej's ship, safe and secure. If only she hadn't been too proud to take Kaz up on his offer to ask around the docks and commandeer a vessel on her behalf, crewed by experienced sailors fearful of offending a powerful and heartless Barrel boss. If only she hadn't been so insistent that she and Matthias travel anonymously, rather than with the Ravkan delegation — it had seemed so important that if they were to have any chance at bringing about peace between their respective countries, they needed to arrive as neutral parties, paid for by their own coin, removed from the machinations of the Ravkan and Fjerdan political leadership. If she had just been content to _wait_ , instead of insisting on travelling with the first ship heading for Ravka, and the cheapest berth she and Matthias could find.

Matthias, to his credit, mentioned none of this. All of his attention was focused on the task at hand, on ensuring they survived. As Nina started to feel her rage overcome her, he took her arm.

'Save your energy,' he said. 'I think we're going to have to abandon ship and swim.'

Nina, with horror, saw that he was right. The ship was beyond saving, even if either of them had known how to steer it, and while the exact circumstances that had seen its crew take all the lifeboats and desert them were unclear, it was apparent that no help was on the way. They were on their own, on a sinking ship, in the empty sea.

There was no time to think. Struggling for balance, Matthias and Nina picked their way across the heaving deck, and, side by side, they stepped into the icy water.

*

The shock of the cold and the force of the current threatened to separate them, but they fought to remain connected, gritting their teeth and digging their fingers into each other's wrists. Matthias was looking back at the wreck of the ship with a grim expression.

'We need to get ourselves clear of the sinking vessel if we're to have any chance,' he shouted, struggling to make himself heard over the rushing waves and wailing wind. 'If we don't put some distance between us and the ship, it will drag us down in its wake when it goes under!'

Nina nodded, her teeth chattering.

'You'll remember,' she said, her voice suffused with a grim gallows humour, 'this is familiar ground — or rather, familiar _lack of ground_ — for both of us. It wouldn't be a sea voyage for us without an unexpected detour spent swimming!'

She had managed to tear a strip of cloth from the loose shift she was wearing, and, treading water, tied their two wrists together firmly.

'I'm not sure how long that's going to hold, but we need a way to swim without having to hold hands, while still staying close together, and that's the only thing I could come up with. Swimming's going to be difficult, but we're unlikely to be able to swim all the way to land anyway — we just need to swim long enough to get away from the sinking wreckage, and then we'll have to just keep ourselves afloat, and trust the currents to see us to shore.'

Matthias gave the cord of cloth a quick tug to test its resilience, and, once satisfied that it was enough to keep them tethered, began swimming. Nina did the same. They moved with awkward, halting strokes — their tied wrists necessitated that they moved more or less as one, but Matthias's arms were longer, and every time their joined hands lifted out of the water the motion also threw Nina painfully forwards and upwards. Their progress was slow, but grimly, steadily, they propelled themselves forward across the unforgiving water.

It was impossible to judge how much time had passed. Every inch of them was focused on survival, and for a while they didn't dare to look back, fearful that any pause would increase their chances of being dragged beneath the waves to a watery death. Eventually they reached a point of such exhaustion that they could no longer move their arms, and their legs felt as if lead weights were tied to them, so they paused, and tried to make sense of their surroundings.

'We are going to have to rely on the ocean to do the rest,' said Matthias. 'I have no idea how close we were to land when the ship went under, and we're too far south for me to be able to navigate reliably by the stars, as I was taught to do in Fjerda.'

Nina felt that familiar catch, that involuntary flash of danger that always sparked when she was reminded of Matthias's training and past as a _drüskelle_ , but she reined it in, and forced herself to stay as calm as possible.

'All we have to do is stay afloat,' she said. 'Stay afloat, and stay together. We'll do what we did before, in the waters off the Fjerdan coast. Keep our heads above the water, and keep ourselves alive.'

Matthias drew Nina towards him, and wrapped her in his arms.

'I've got you,' he said. 'I've got you, and I won't let go. You keep our hearts beating.'

Nina reached for her powers, hating, as always, the effect that the _parem_ had had on her abilities. Before her bout with the drug, drawing on her Grisha powers been effortless, as natural as breathing. Afterwards, there were always those few seconds of hesitation, like groping in the dark, struggling to remember the words of a once familiar language, or returning home to find the furniture in her house subtly rearranged. But after a fearful moment in which she was convinced the stress of the situation had unmoored her from her powers completely, she remembered what to do, and reached out, feeling the flow of blood in her own veins, and, more distantly, the beat of Matthias's heart and the reassuring weight of his body against her own.

The wind had died down, and the silence of the open ocean was unnerving, but Nina kept her attention focused on their bodies, on the solid beating of their hearts, and on Matthias's arms, safe and sure against her own. The pair drifted forwards beneath the uncomprehending stars.

*

They didn't know how much time had passed — it could have been anything from hours to days, and the dark sky was no help in judging the passage of time — but suddenly, with a shock, they realised the water had changed, subtly. Everything was on a smaller scale: the waves were choppier and more abrupt, the currents were gentler, and their forward motion less pronounced. Matthias, straining his eyes, claimed he could see a row of lights, and possibly a shoreline. With the last of their energy, they swam in that direction.

As they got closer, Nina could see it too: a high sea-wall, its outline dim against the night sky, illuminated by the light of hundreds of hand-lit beacons, each one a warning against the treacheries of submerged reefs, sharp rocks, and tides. The sea-wall had an impossibly narrow opening — Nina was astonished that any boat could fit through it — and, as they approached the harbour, the waves grew rougher, forcing the pair violently forward, tugging at their waterlogged clothes. They drew what strength they could from Nina's Grisha powers, and each other's calm presence, and, with a final desperate burst of energy, flung themselves through the gap in the sea wall. A particularly strong wave carried them forwards the rest of the way, pushing them through the tangle of small vessels that crowded the harbour, until at last they felt the stony sand beneath their feet, and waded out of the water, throwing themselves, exhausted, onto the shore.

Matthias only allowed himself a moment's pause to rest, before raising himself into a seated position and scanning the area warily, searching for potential threats. His search was, thankfully, fruitless. Although there were many signs of habitation — the crowd of small boats in the shelter of the harbour, the lights along the sea wall, and the houses and dockyard buildings they could see dimly in the surrounding area — they appeared to be the only people awake, so while Matthias remained alert, he focused his attention on Nina, who was shivering violently, a delayed reaction to the freezing water in which they'd been forced to swim.

'We should try to find some kind of shelter,' she said, through chattering teeth, and so he helped her to her feet, and they made their way unsteadily towards the sleeping town.

Unlike Ketterdam, which only got more interesting after dark, at which point a whole parallel city seemed to emerge, mercenary and glittering and dangerous, the seaside town in which they'd found themselves was clearly a place whose inhabitants spent the night sleeping tucked up at home. The narrow, winding streets were empty, the houses, made of slate and lime and thatch, had windows boarded up against the dark. It made Matthias and Nina, used to cacophonous evenings filled with schemers, criminals and revellers, feel deeply apprehensive. They picked their way carefully through the streets, moving without a clear purpose, silent and uneasy. Finally they found what they were looking for: a dry, sheltered storage hut, leaning haphazardly against the last house in a row.

'That door looks pretty flimsy, Matthias,' said Nina in a whisper. Privately, she wished Inej or Kaz were there — their particular skills would have made short work of the door to the hut — but Matthias, even after an exhausting escape from a shipwreck, was an acceptable substitute, and made short work of the lock barring them from shelter, and rest.

They staggered inside, taking in the hut's contents as their eyes adjusted to the change in light. Nina was particularly pleased by the large pile of what appeared to be flour sacks, stacked in a corner, and she motioned Matthias to follow her over.

'I'm sure this offends your honest sensibilities for some reason or other,' she said, 'but I simply don't have the energy to find legitimate accommodation, and in any case I think we need to figure out exactly where we are, and what was done to our ship, before we start pestering the locals.'

Matthias nodded, and began to strip out of his wet clothes.

'This, at least, is familiar ground for us: huddling for warmth after an unintended ocean swim. At least this time you're less squeamish about being naked!' said Nina with a laugh as she did the same.

It was dark, so she couldn't be certain, but she could have sworn she saw Matthias blush. She marvelled at how many things had changed for them, and yet how many remained the same. They could try as hard as they liked, but they seemed fated to keep returning to these same situations. It was uncanny.

With a sigh of exhausted satisfaction, Nina slid into the pile of sacks, revelling in their dry warmth. As Matthias joined her, she curled herself towards him. Though she had felt she would remain a frozen, tooth-chattering block of ice forever, she could feel sensation returning to her limbs and finger, and a slow warmth spreading through her body. Under her head, Nina could feel Matthias's heart beating, and she at last allowed herself to relax, slipping into sleep wrapped in his familiar arms.

*

Their awakening was not, perhaps, as gentle as they would have liked. Rather than being woken by the sun, or their own hunger, or even, as they had become accustomed, by a crescendo of shouting Ketterdam street life, they were woken by a scream. They sat up abruptly, awkwardly aware that they were naked under the rough sacks.

'Who are you, and what are you doing in my storage hut?' the woman who had woken them, plump, disgruntled, and covered in flour, demanded. Her words were a mixture of Ravkan, sprinkled with the odd Shu phrase, which led Nina to suspect they were in a border area.

Nina and Matthias had not had time to discuss how they were going to proceed once discovered, so she had a fleeting moment in which to make the decision.

'Do you speak Kerch?' she asked, twisting her own native Ravkan until it sounded halting and stilted. 'My husband and I understand very little Ravkan, and Shu not at all.'

'Kerch,' said the woman, in the tone of one trying out words long unspoken. 'I can speak Kerch, but slowly. I learnt it a long time ago, when some Kerch merchants stayed for a season when their ship needed repairs. But you can speak, and I will understand. Talk.'

So Nina raised herself up to a seated position, and the performance began. Matthias always thought she looked subtly altered when speaking Kerch, transformed into what he thought of as her Ketterdam persona — braver, wittier, guarded, playing a role and wielding words like weapons — and he could see she was marshalling all her resources to make the stream of lies she was about to utter seem believable.

'My husband and I have been let down by shoddy workmanship, and unreliable contracted ship-hands. You would not _believe_ the coin we spent hiring our crew, the long hours Pieter here spent at the docks interviewing men to ensure we had only the best Ketterdam had to offer. This trip was to be a wedding present for me,' she continued, dabbing theatrically at her eyes with a corner of the sack, 'a chance for Pieter to prove himself to his father, show that he could open up new trade routes in Shu Han and Ravka, and take his place among the wealthiest merchers in the city.'

Matthias watched in speechless awe as Nina wove her elaborate tapestry of lies, inventing an encounter with pirates, a double-crossing ship's captain (who bore a striking resemblance to Pekka Rollins), a ransom demand, and a theft of their hard-earned coin.

'And then,' she said, her eyes round with outrage and injured pride, 'they put us in one of the ship's rowboats, and cast us adrift in the open ocean! The indignity. My Pieter is the son of one of the most important men of Ketterdam, and ... and we had paid them! We had paid them good coin! The deal is the deal!'

'Marit rightly finds this very upsetting,' said Matthias. 'It was her first time out of Ketterdam, and it turned into a disaster. We barely escaped with our lives, thrown out of the rowboat by a gigantic wave. We don't even know the name of this town — we thought we would drown, but somehow we ended up here, safe in the harbour.'

'It was late at night,' said Nina, casting a look at Matthias that plainly told him to leave the lying to the professionals, 'and we couldn't see any people. We didn't want to wake people up or be a bother, so we just crept in here to take shelter. We weren't thinking straight, we were that exhausted and half-drowned. I'm so sorry, we must have been a tremendous shock to you!'

Matthias privately thought Nina's story sounded over-the-top and unbelievable, but it seemed the woman, who named herself as Silva, had bought it.

'Oh, you poor, poor things,' she exclaimed, wiping her flour-covered hands on her sleeves. 'What a terrible ordeal you have endured! Are your clothes dry? If not, I'll try to find something inside to lend you. You must come in out of this draughty hut. Come in to the warmth — I'm a baker, and I've just got up to make the first loaves of the day. Come inside and sit down, and I'll get you some fresh bread and pastries to eat.'

*

As they recovered over the next few days, Matthias and Nina slipped into a soothing routine. The pretense of being Pieter and Marit — a naïve, unworldly, and entitled pair of Ketterdam merchlings — gave them an excuse to ask lots of questions, and behave in ways their hosts might find odd. Logosen — the town in which they found themselves — was used to strangers, but these tended to be ships' crews stopping over briefly on their way to brighter lights, bigger cities. Visitors to Logosen didn't venture far from the harbour, and they most certainly didn't stay on indefinitely. Slowly, however, Silva and her neighbours grew accustomed to the pompous Kerch couple who had appeared in their midst, and their presence no longer prompted surprised stares and guarded whispers.

Their lack of money was a more serious problem. Silva would have been quite content to let them stay in her house rent-free, in exchange for help in the bakery and shop, but they needed more than meals and board if they were going to find passage out of Logosen and onwards to Ravka. And so Matthias went out to work in the main industry of the town: fishing.

He didn't go out with the small vessels to lay the nets and bring in the catch each day. Instead, he helped out once the boats had returned to the harbour, unloading the vast hauls of fish, and helping to distribute them among the storehouses that dotted the shoreline. It was heavy, tedious work, and it only brought in a handful of copper coins each week. They might have earned more money, more quickly, if they had been prepared to take on less legitimate work, but Nina was wary about drawing attention, and particularly about revealing her Grisha abilities — they were in border country, but it was unclear whether Logosen aligned with the Shu or the Ravkan view of Grisha, and she felt it better to keep a low profile. Therefore they had to let several Ravka-bound ships come and go, along with others travelling in the opposite direction to Kerch or Novyi Zem, before they had scraped together enough money to pay for their journey. But eventually, after months of pretense, performance, and Matthias's hard labour, they had amassed enough money to book passage on the next ship heading for Os Kervo, and, as luck would have it, a ship docked several days later, bound in that direction.

*

'I will be sorry to see you two young ones go,' said Silva, as she walked with them down to the harbour. 'It's been nice having company in the house these few months.'

Nina clasped Silva's hand in her own.

'We are so very grateful,' she said, 'for the hospitality you've shown us. You didn't have to take us in, but you did. Pieter and I will never forget it. Once we're back in Ketterdam, we will do our best to make Pieter's father include Logosen in his company's regular trade routes, so that those in the town can benefit from the wealth of one of the richest Kerch trading houses.'

She paused to wave regally at a cluster of fishermen repairing one of the small vessels in the harbour, who watched her pass with awestruck expressions on their faces. Matthias, carrying their meagre collection of belongings — possessions acquired during their sojourn in Logosen — rolled his eyes. There was an uncharacteristically high amount of activity going on around the docks — normally by this time of day, most of the fishermen would have taken their boats out into the open ocean, and the dock workers, market sellers, and others who made their living on the shoreline would have retreated indoors, awaiting the return of the fishing boats. But whenever a trade ship docked, people stuck around, hoping to scrounge extra money helping the ship load or unload its cargo, or sell its crew food, drink, and other goods. Seagulls wheeled overhead, screeching, and making occasional dives downwards to steal fish, or any other food they could get their beaks into. It took Nina, Matthias, and Silva a long time to weave their way through the crowds on the docks, and several times they had to shake off people trying to sell them unwanted items for exorbitant prices, but eventually they arrived. A harassed-looking sailor was guarding the gangplank, shooing off gangs of Logosen children trying to sell him rope, dried fish, and the fiery, bitter distilled liquor that many of the residents of the town produced in stills in their cellars.

'You those merchling kids wanting to go to Ravka?' he asked, and Matthias nodded.

Everything seemed to happen very fast, and yet also in slow, agonising motion.

The sailor glanced involuntarily upwards towards the ship, and made what he clearly felt was a subtle hand signal. He hadn't counted on Nina, who reacted instinctively. As the barrel of a gun appeared over the ship's deck, Nina raised her hands in blazing, glorious fury, her Grisha powers deflecting bullets, altering their trajectory so that they fell, harmlessly, into the glass-green water.

Matthias was slower to react, but a split second later he was diving to the ground, pushing Silva behind him so that he could shield her, keeping his eyes on the ship's gangway the whole time. Sure enough, once they realised that bullets weren't going to work, the ship's crew poured out, fists raised, fighting their way through the small windstorm that Nina had somehow managed to start.

Matthias and Nina were equal to the challenge. Back to back they fought them, Matthias with his fists and feet and elbows (a scrappier style than in his _drüskelle_ days — the legacy of his time in the Barrel, but better suited for fighting in tight corners), Nina with the supernatural power that coursed through her, singing through her veins, rippling through her bones, and pouring from her raised palms with crackling, raging ferocity. Logosen locals ducked out of their way, diving behind stalls and tables, jumping onto docked vessels, their eyes wide with shock at the hidden skills 'Pieter' and 'Marit' appeared to possess.

It was all over in moments. Nina felt almost insulted that this new threat had come from such unworthy assailants, who were lying at her feet, looking sorry for themselves, watched over by a bemused group of Logosen shopkeepers. Silva, who had cut her hand when dropping to the ground to avoid the hail of bullets, was looking at her with an expression that clearly indicated she and Matthias had some explaining to do, but that would have to wait.

'We need to check the ship,' said Matthias, and he and Nina picked their way cautiously up the gangplank, and through the maze of cabins, their eyes watchful for any sudden movement.

They were brought to a halt by the sight that greeted them in the ship's largest cabin.

'Nina Zenik and Matthias Helvar,' said the man before them, 'I'm afraid I can't allow you to do what you're planning.'

In his hand was a pistol, elegant and deadly. It was pointing at a small, Logosen child, who must have been captured in the chaos during the fight on the docks. Nina felt a flash of anger, and began to raise her hands.

'Now, now, Miss Zenik, we'll have none of that,' said the man. 'You are going to come with me onto the deck, or I'll shoot this child. I've done my research — threats against your own lives might not faze you, but I doubt either of you would risk the life of a child.'

'You clearly didn't do enough research,' said Nina, defiantly, 'or you would have known better than to send out that pack of amateurs against us. We're Barrel brats — the best of the best, forged in the gangs. You're speaking Kerch, so you clearly know what that means. Or, if it's still not clear to you, let me put it in words you will understand: when we lived in Ketterdam, people paid a lot of money for our skills, because having us on side was a good investment. What do you think that means for our enemies?'

'I think it means you're all bluster, and I'm the one with the gun pointing at a child's head. Onto the deck!'

He drove Nina and Matthias forward, dragging the child behind him. They kept their senses alert for any opening, any possible way to snatch the child and avoid the bullets that would follow, but the spaces were to small, and the corners too tight, and they didn't know their way around, so they allowed themselves to be forced out onto the deck.

'Now,' he said, 'you have a choice. Not a good one, it's true, but I am an honest Kerch mercher, and I will honour the deal. Since my hired hands failed to kill you, I'm forced to attend to the task myself. But I only need one of you to die today. The other one can walk away. All you need to do is choose. And ... you'd better choose quickly. My patience will only last so long, so you will need to reach a decision before I get impatient, and kill this charming little child — followed by anyone else from this quaint little town who happens to be in the vicinity.'

'Why are you doing this?' asked Nina, stalling for time, still looking for a chance — any chance — to extricate them from the situation.

'Sadly, Miss Zenik, the two of you are bad for business. Or you will be, if left to do what you plan. That's the problem with ... what was it you called yourselves? "Barrel brats"? Barrel brats talk. When I found out there were two young people — refugees from Ravka and Fjerda, repaying the hospitality shown to them by the Kerch people with such ingratitude — who had a serious chance at brokering peace between their two warring nations, I knew you would have to be stopped. You see, Ravka and Fjerda at war suit me just fine: war means no official trade, which means smugglers like me, operating between the two countries, can make themselves a fortune. Your plans for peace are going to put me out of business.'

'My heart bleeds for you,' said Nina. 'I suppose we have you to thank for our sinking ship?'

'Indeed. The two of you are remarkably hard to kill. Imagine my surprise when I discovered you popping up in a nowhere little fishing village like this — a complete coincidence, I might add. I thought you dead, until you came to book passage to Ravka on my ship. And here we are: two crews of hired hands couldn't kill you, but I suppose that's to be expected. If you want something done properly, do it yourself — don't even think about it, Fjerdan!' he said, as Matthias, attempting to take advantage of this gloating speech, edged away from Nina and crept forward towards the child.

He raised the gun.

'Make your decision. Which of you is going to be the one to die?' He pointed the pistol at them, gesturing dramatically, a smug expression on his face.

He didn't notice the seagull. Swooping down towards the deck, screeching furiously, it dived directly into his face, forcing him to take his eyes off Matthias and Nina as he flailed wildly at the bird. That split second was all they needed: with a burst of deadly power, Nina swept the gun from their assailant's hand, while Matthias dived forwards, wrenching the child to safety. Nina rushed to claim possession of the weapon, which she then turned on the Kerch smuggler.

'Right,' she said. 'You're coming with us, to face the justice of this "nowhere little fishing village". How do you think they'll treat you, once they know you threatened one of their children?'

*

Several weeks later, Nina and Matthias found themselves once again saying farewell to Silva at the gangplank leading up to a ship. This time, however, it was not an imposing Kerch merchant ship, but rather a smaller, more agile Logosen fishing vessel, crewed by people Matthias had helped out with their catch. They had not been able to recover the money wasted hiring the gang of Kerch assassins, but the people of Logosen, grateful that the pair had managed to save the hostage child's life, and having decided that the chance to loot the now-ownerless Kerch ship that had shown up in their harbour was sufficient payment, had volunteered to carry Nina and Matthias on the remainder of their journey. The assassins had been dealt with swiftly — sent on to the next town, which was larger, and had a courthouse, and a travelling judge who visited to hear cases once a month. Nina, privately, had her doubts that any justice would be dealt — people like their would-be attackers had a way of weaselling out of things — but at least their temporary imprisonment gave her and Matthias a head start.

'Right, enough goodbyes,' said Silva, shooing away an inquisitive gang of Logosen children who were attempting to sell Matthias some kind of sugary confectionery on a stick. She embraced first Nina, and then Matthias, murmuring wishes for a safe and uneventful journey. 

'Although really, Nina, if what you say is true,' continued Silva, 'I don't know how you have the courage to get on a ship ever again!'

'It's true that we have not had much luck with ships and oceans,' said Nina, 'but unfortunately they're the quickest way to get around. Unless I can figure out some way to use my Grisha powers to make us fly, that is!'

Matthias looked as if he had no doubt this would, at some point, become a real possibility, and that when it did, he would be the first one roped in by Nina to test it out. He took her hand, and, with a final awkward smile at the Logosen residents crowded along the docks to say goodbye, walked beside her onto the ship that would carry them away.

*

As the vessel made its way through the narrow entrance to Logosen's tiny harbour, Nina and Matthias stood in the stern, watching the town disappear behind them. They had left in the early evening, and, as they made their departure, darkness had fallen. The water was an inky black, still and calm and full of secrets. Nina shivered slightly in the chilly air, plagued by a momentary feeling of doubt, and the realisation that, once in Ravka, she would be responsible for ensuring Matthias's safety. What they were trying to do was difficult and dangerous, and she had no certainty as to the welcome they would receive, nor even if she would feel at home again in the opulence of the Ravkan court, or among the coiled power of the Grisha who fought for Ravkan interests. For so long, home had been an absence, an exile, a yearning for return. But, slowly, imperceptibly, that had changed, until, in a moment of clarity fighting side by side on the Logosen docks, she had realised that home, for her, was Matthias. No matter whether their presence was welcome in Ravka, or in Fjerda, or even back in Kerch, they had a home in each other.

And, as Nina raised her head to take one last look back at the harbour, the sea wall exploded with light. The people of Logosen had done for them what they did for their own fishing vessels: seeing off their departure with lanterns, held aloft along the sea wall, a shimmering beacon of warmth and light and safety. As the harbour retreated into the distance, the lantern light remained, mirroring the light of the millions of stars that arced above them, gleaming and glittering and guiding them on.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic diverges from canon at the point at which Matthias is shot in _Crooked Kingdom_. Rather than dying, in my alternative version of events, he dodges aside, the bullet misses, and he survives.
> 
> The town of Logosen is based on the Cornish coastal town of [Mousehole](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mousehole).


End file.
